One Time Among Many
by ClouDy SkieZ1
Summary: ONE SHOT. My version of the few weeks after the fall of Drake. How the remaining Nighstalkers cope with their pain. AbbyKing Sexual Content behind this link, people.


Disclaimer- I do not own anything pertaining to, or containing Hannibal King, Abigail Whistler, Zoe Sommerfield, or anything from the Blade franchise. Any coincidence is purely that and I take no responsibility of these coincidences. Whistles a jaunty tune

I decided to write a Post-Blade fic, one timer, just to clear my mind so that I can continue on "Unknown Evil" I've gotta get some smut out of my brain since I can't have that happen yet on UE.

This is the TASTEFUL version….M+ whereas the NC-17 version is found on Adult fanfiction net (soon, my loverly little darlings, soon.)

If you don't know where to find the "Adult" version of this fic, either e-mail IM me at

RubZ Dawg 069

Sit back, relax and pull up a bucket because baby, I'm about to make you drool. (This, all in all, is my forte)

It had been three weeks since the demise of Drake. Three weeks since the fall out of the human 'plants.' Three weeks since the murder of the most amazing people ever in Abigail Whistler's life.

And for these three weeks, she had been strong. Just for the sake of the only two people who she now shared her life with since her world was turned upside down by some vampires getting a hard-on for world domination. Though she would never admit it, her pride stopped her every time she began to voice her emotion, she was tired. She was lost. Worst of all she felt helpless.

For the first time in her existence, she was scared. Shit-scared of the inevitable break down in front of the two most important people in her life.

Before the joining of one loud mouthed ex-vampire, Dex, Hedges and Sommerfield were her life.

Her family.

It's funny how the tables turn. Said loud mouthed ex-vampire and Zoë were her life.

Her family.

They were now the reason for not screaming out into the night with the pent up rage and frustration that she held deep within her soul waiting for the appropriate moment to break free

God knows how she has tried, she can't shake the dread that the family she had attained through the crisis her life now held would soon slip from her grasp as easily as the latter before them had.

Exactly one week before, Abigail began to do something about her pent up emotions. Something no one who knew Abby would have ever expected.

The first night one week ago, Abby couldn't sleep, so she forced herself upright and wandered down to the training room, figuring she would tire herself out by completing a few of the new series of movements taught to her by one of the new members of the Nighstalkers.

Not that Kenji Kooper was a "new" Nighstalker by any means, he was…well new to her. He was now the first line of defense, which she believed to put him on edge. He had been in that position before and it hadn't worked out as well as he, or Abigail for that matter, had hoped for. She had worked with him a few years ago, when she was just a beginner. He taught her the majority of her fighting skills, and in return, she taught him how to wield a nasty bow and arrow. He was a jovial kind of guy, then. Before the beast that was Kigatilik.

He was 5'11" and had more battle wounds on his face alone to seem as though it should have been part of a puzzle. The scars weren't always there; they had been acquired while in Sunnydale California when battling the big nasty that predictably rose as per its poignant self.

He usually wore a black cotton t-shirt with black cargo pants, along with his weapons belt which to the untrained eye looked as though it held only two guns when in fact held more than just guns. He was about 180 pounds of solid muscle and when provoked had the demeanor of a schizophrenic.

As a trainer, Abby realized, he was as patient with his student than a mother with a newborn. He made sure that every movement was copasetic and fluidly transitioned with the next. He had been part of Caulder's group since before Abby joined with Sommer and the others.

That was yet another thing that had changed. After her friends were buried and the blood washed away from every inch of the 'Comb, the new crew moved in and habitually took over. Where Abby once saw Hedge's desk and mounds of paperwork and prototypes, there now stood a metal cabinet which stored their weapons by size and range.

It was the little things that affected her the most. Where she used to hear Dex and Hedges laughter, she heard the whispered voices of Koop and Savvi (the medic) which were planning the next move against the vampires. Yeah, Daystar worked, but only in the immediate area.

Naturally.

While rounding the corner, she heard guttural snarling and what sounded like the groan of a wounded man.

She picked her head up and looked at the position King was in. He had his hands on his knees, winded from the exertion of working out. He looked haggard and the chest wound he had gotten during the Drake stint didn't seem to be healing as well as she had hoped. Every step he took and every movement in the way of rehabilitation kept tearing the wound open, so much so that blood was trickling down his torso.

He was again kicking the crap out of the bag which hung from the ceiling "Fucking thing…" he kicked the bag brutally "wont…" kicked it harder this time "HEAL!"

Instead of opting for kicking the bag again, he landed what would have been a nasty uppercut to a guy's jaw (probably shattering both bone and teeth) to the bag, sending it swinging across the room and back where Abby caught it deftly setting it motionless in the room again.

"You can't keep doing this, King. It's never going to fully heal until you take it easy." Abby spoke to him calmly. She didn't want to upset his already frazzled nerves.

She walked over to the edge of the room and picked up the discarded wife beater. King eyed her movements, his sculpted chest heaving in exertion, as she began her way back over towards him.

"You might want to have Savvi take a look at it, clean it and stitch it up again. We need you in top form, King." She didn't look him in the eye when she said this, wanting nothing more than to kiss him and beg for him to get better so that she could have some sort of normalcy when Kenji and she went on the hunt.

True to form, King smirked and patted her on the head.

"We need, or you need. Abby?" He cocked his head to the side when he didn't get the come back he was hoping for. Since everything had happened their easy banter wasn't so easy anymore.

She landed a rough roundhouse kick to the bag, pretending King had already left. She wouldn't look at him with the tears she knew were forming in her eyes.

Yes, she needed.

While blocking everything out, she didn't realize that King was still in the room, watching her spar with the defenseless punching bag until he spoke, more than twenty minutes later.

"Abby, if you need anything. Talking or whatever, I'll listen, you know." She stopped with her routine and stood with her back towards King, her head turned to the left in what he recognized as her way of acknowledging she heard him.

"My door is always open." He left her to her thoughts.

Another half an hour passed before Abby, feeling deflated like she had hoped, turned off the lights and headed for the showers.

She lay in her room, King's words reverberating through her skull while the rain outside began to fall. A bright flash of lightning cracked the inky blackness of the night followed by a loud clap of thunder its light bouncing off the pupils of her eyes.

"My door is always open."

It had been seven days since their meeting in the training room. Seven days since she had listened to his low, silky voice, telling her that he was there for her.

'He always was,' she thought to herself.

Setting a form of resolve only seen during the battles against the vampires, she crawled out of bed and stood, her wavy hair flowing down her back in walnut cascades. Her white spandex tank top and white linen pants stood out like a beacon in the dark halls of the sleeping quarters as she headed over to King's room.

She was silent as a predator, opening his door noiselessly and slinking in. The rain outside began to pound on the metal roof of the Hideout making a noisy 'ping' every time it made contact.

The window which faced the east was open, despite the air conditioning being pumped through the room. It created a comforting breeze and the smell of the rain began to wear on her senses, sending her into a comate frame of mind. She needed sleep and there was a king sized bed in front of her with the man who she so wanted to open up to.

He flipped in her direction suddenly, his eyes open and alert, as though he was never asleep.

"Hey." She figured she should stick to simple. Simple was easy, and at this moment she wanted nothing more than to curl up on the cool cotton sheets of his bed and fall into a dreamless slumber.

He smiled slightly in the darkness. His eyes showed a gratefulness that she had seen only once before, the night she rescued him from the Talos' hideout. She saw him roll over and retrieve his boxers from the floor nearby slipping them on in the darkness while she watched expectantly.

When he was settled, he pulled back the sheet and patted the bed lightly.

She padded over silently, another crack of thunder resonating throughout the room. She slipped into the bed facing King and looked at his chest, the wound from Drake "staking" him being almost non-existent.

"See, I told you, just some rest and you'd be as good as new." Her voice was quiet, and to King it sounded the weakest he had ever heard her.

"I didn't do it for me." He looked at her, his eyes flitting over the features of her face. "I did it for you. You and Zoë. I need to be able to keep an eye on you both." He glanced over to the door, secretly analyzing if it was locked or not. He closed his eyes and exhaled a breath.

"You're the only family I have now." The silence stretched between them, King feeling the shift of her body as she lay on her back.

He didn't realize it but he was leaning over her, taking in her scent, much like he did as a vampire. Her scent was…unlike anything he had ever bear witness to. She smelled of spice and warm honey. His mouth watered at the thought of her skin beneath his lips.

Suddenly he felt the bed quaking slightly and he opened his eyes to see clear streams of tears flowing down Abby's face. He was completely shocked and for the first time in his life he didn't have a damn thing to say.

Staring down at her in wonder, if he hadn't been staring at her lips, he wouldn't have realized she said anything at all.

"I need you, King. I need you to help me deal with this." She opened her eyes and saw that his eyes were dilated and his breathing was shallow.

He didn't believe anything would have ever prepared him for her admission, and he didn't know if this was a residual vampire trait or what, but he felt himself finding her the most attractive he had ever seen her (and that was hard to beat) and tried to will away his impeding erection.

He took her face in his hands and with the pads of his large thumbs he swiped away the tears that had stained her cheeks so beautifully. She stopped quivering and she looked at him with glossy brown eyes, his resolve cracking and he silently asked for permission by brushing his lips against hers.

"King," she breathed. "God, I need you."

Throwing hazard to the dogs, he kissed her solidly, not doing much but tasting her skin and teasing her lips. At the first exhale of hers he captured her top lip, sucking it lightly as she returned his playful kiss. His mind was reeling as her hands rose to his chest and began a trek from his pecs to his sides.

He groaned as she deepened the kiss, one hand tangling in her hair and crushing her fully to his lips the other traveling under her top and caress the flesh of her breast. She broke the kiss suddenly and removed her hands from his body.

Just short of a groan, King opened his eyes to what he thought was just another one of those "dreams" when he realized she was beneath him and in fact she had just removed her top and was anxiously untying the string that held on her pants.

Gazing at her breasts for a moment, he looked into her eyes and swatted her hands away, replacing them with his. He fiddled with the tie for a moment and when she bit her lip, he smiled at her. Silently, and without warning he slipped a hand beneath the fabric of her pants.

Her eyes closed and he leaned over her, kissing her eyelids and whispering incoherent soothing sounds into her ear.

He recaptured her lips, and she opened to him immediately, her tongue searching for his desperately. With the unoccupied hand, he lifted one of her legs to his shoulders, opening her to him and he pressed his fingers against her moist folds.

She hissed appreciatively and raked her nails down his back, pushing off his boxers with both her hands and her feet while he toyed with her most sensitive places. She dug her nails into the meat of his butt and pulled him tightly against her.

The rain pounded consistently on the roof and the lightning struck, the thunder clapped and King looked into Abby's eyes while he slid her pants over her thighs and they became lost in the sheet which was now located at the bottom of the bed.

"Stop me, Abby." King pleaded. He knew, at this moment, if this happened it would never stop. He wouldn't let it. This was what he had wanted to show her since she had rescued him. This was the only way he could really show her how much she meant to him and he wouldn't fuck it up.

She shook her head and nipped at his lips hotly.

"Please, tell me." She reached down and placed him at her entrance.

"Tell me to stop." He kissed her with the last ounce of resolve he had left in his soul and realized there was no turning back.

He pushed into her welcoming heat slowly, letting it burn him from the outside, inward. Abby opened her mouth in a silent scream and King hovered over her left shoulder his mouth agape with the sensations he had been forever denied. The veins in his neck predominant as he willed himself not to plunge into her like an animal but Abby surprised him yet again and wiggled underneath him.

As he thrust into her for the first time in what would be a very, very long evening he realized this was it.

"Faster, King." He grinned and cocked an eyebrow, acquiescing to her demands while the ran poured even harder along the metal roof of the Honeycomb Hideout.


End file.
